


Show Me the Measure of My Worth

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [193]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Boys In Love, Don't copy to another site, Duty, Give it a try, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Stephen Loves Tony, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, its good though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 19:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21287108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: Duty above all.That doesn't mean Stephen won't spend the rest of his life in love with Tony Stark.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: A Thousand Futures of Me and You [193]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1118655
Comments: 9
Kudos: 96





	Show Me the Measure of My Worth

Stephen stared down at the thin piece of parchment declaring itself for his eyes only. Before him Wong stood in silence, hands clasped behind his back, expression carefully crafted into one of indifference. Wise choice given the words swimming in front of his eyes, almost crude in the blunt way they tried to decide his fate. 

Outside it rained, drops pounding against the glass like a physical manifestation of his displeasure. Stephen had to pause a moment to make certain they weren’t, in fact, because of his emotional state. He’d made that mistake before, much to his chagrin. They weren’t and Stephen found himself staring at the rapidly dwindling flame of the candle on his desk, casting its ethereal glow on the scatter of books and ink on his desk.

“They’re serious. Aren’t they?”

Wong kept it simple, “yes.” 

Stephen dropped the paper, barely holding back the urge to crumple it into a ball and toss it into the fireplace. Behaviour like that wouldn’t be very becoming of the next Sorcerer Supreme. The title rang through his head, to sharp to be anything but unsettling. To claim surprise would be foolish, Wong had never minced words about the Masters at Kamar-Taj’s intentions or the Ancient Ones’ plans, Still…to receive it now, was anything but the blessing it was surely meant to be. 

“What happens if I refuse?”

Wong raised an eyebrow, clearly recognizing the stupidity of the question. 

“Humor me. Please.”

The other sorcerer sighed, one hand rubbing at his brow as though to relieve a great burden, “the longer Kamar-Taj goes without a Sorcerer Supreme, the more unstable the veil between dimensions become. You aren’t blind Strange. Attacks have been rapidly increasing in frequency and power. We can’t withstand it for long without someone powerful to keep this world and others in check.” 

Stephen’s jaw clenched, his heart ached, “and if I died tomorrow, who would replace me? If I wasn’t an option…” 

“We’re all out of options Strange. The Ancient One held out for centuries beyond her time, holding things together. Waiting. For you. And you know better then anyone that she still faltered.”

Stephen closed his eyes. His stomach turned painfully and he suddenly felt so very old. A new weight settled on his shoulders, a new burden to add to the ever growing balancing act he’d been forced to endure. 

“I’m sorry Strange,” Wong hesitated before shaking his head in sympathy. “This life demands sacrifice from all of us, it is how the Universe measures our worth. You’ve been destined for greatness since the first breath you ever took…which means you were destined to suffer more then any of us. But it isn’t in vain.”

A small, discreet vial was place on the desk with a gentle tap. Stephen stared at the clear contents within and was able to offer little more then a shaky smile of gratitude to the man who knew him so well, who had been with him through the worst of it. 

\---

Stephen sat quietly at the countertop of Tony’s kitchen, eyes on the city, his city, sprawled beneath the tower. He was going to miss New York, even with all its flaws and painful memories. Though he supposed he could visit on rare occasions once the attacks had settled in…well who knew when. Maybe there wouldn’t be a New York at all by then. 

The thought was sobering as Stephen looked down at his scarred and trembling hands. Immortality had never appealed to him, notoriety yes, but living forever had always seemed like a tiresome idea. He wasn’t entirely certain how he’d not lose his mind by the end of the first few centuries. 

The door swung open, startling him out of his thoughts. Through the doorway came the whirlwind that was Tony Stark, all fitted pants and tinted sunglasses, grin growing almost maniac as he turned to Stephen. 

“Finally! I’ve been dying to see you all day!”

The words, while sweet to anyone else revealed something darker. Tony had a rough time today, that much was obvious, whether that be from his PTSD or some new problem cropping up among the dysfunctional Avengers, he couldn’t say. All the same, Stephen’s heart fluttered at the relief in Tony’s voice. 

Unfortunately, it was quickly followed by disquiet as he wondered who would be there for Tony once he was gone. His lover had no shortage of sympathetic shoulders, to be sure, but the thought of anyone replacing him was a bitter pill to swallow, though one he must. 

Stephen patted the seat next to him, a silent invitation to vent and dump his worries here and now so the rest of their evening could be enjoyed in relative peace. It was a tradition begun not long after Titan and the realization that this might very well be the last time they do this, burned through Stephen. 

Tony sat with a sigh, fingers plucking off his sunglasses as he began his almost mindless rant about the company and the Avengers and demands from Shield. Usually, Stephen was a fantastic listener, but tonight his mind was elsewhere. He found himself staring into warm brown eyes, desperately trying to imprint them in his memory, watching as pink lips curved around quickly spoken words, following the dramatic movements of oil stained hands, taking in the scent of metal that clung to his skin.

In Stephen’s mind he created a portrait. No detail was to be missed, every line and out of place hair carefully added. He built it up into a memory, one that would be revisited countless times in the years to come. Stephen didn’t want pictures pillaged from the internet or murals drawn on walls by grateful citizens. He wanted this right here, his Tony who was not yet marred by others esteem, a man who loved him and lived for him. A man, who come morning, wouldn’t remember Stephen’s name let alone his appearance. 

Tony’s flow of words cut of abruptly, “hey, you alright?”

Stephen swallowed thickly, “kiss me?”

Tony smiled, reassured and leaned forward to press gentle lips to Stephen’s. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Stephen tangled his hands into messy locks and deepened it, memorizing it. He ignored the way the pain in his heart made it almost impossible to breathe. He ignored how his whole body trembled like it was losing something vital. He ignored the tears that burned and shoved their way down his cheeks. 

He ignored how it felt to lose a piece of his soul. 

Stephen wondered what the Universe thought of his worth now. 


End file.
